A Further Study
by thesilentlamb
Summary: In which Sarah Jane ponders the aftermath of the Doctor's experiment. A sort of follow up to 'Anticipation'. Now complete! Reviews are lovely, by the way.
1. Chapter 1

**This was meant to be a follow up to my fic 'anticipation', although I think it works as a oneshot. On it's own I think it could work for the third Doctor too. On that note, I'd really like to give writing three/Sarah a go if anyone wants to give me a prod.**

**The prompt for this (thanks to Spydurwebb) was 'nervousness', although it didn't go that way at all in the end, hence the different title. Ho hum. Maybe next time!**

**All owned by the BBC, nothing is mine etc.**

**A Further Study**

Sarah really ought to go to bed. Instead she snuggled deeper into the sofa cushions. She lay on her side on the couch in the TARDIS library while the Doctor reclined in the corner, sitting at an angle to give her a little more space to stretch out. His legs were outstretched and his ankles crossed, a copy of Grey's Anatomy in his lap. It was one of his favourites, he had said, and Sarah had idly wondered if he studied other alien species in the same depth he studied humans. It had been a tiring day and this was as close as he usually got to resting.

They had kissed precisely three weeks, two days and one hour ago - by Sarah's personal timeline as least. In the TARDIS it could have been a century ago or a millennium, tomorrow or a year ahead given that they were floating in the vortex where time was fluid and meaningless and everything happened now and never and forever.

It had been awkward at first. Stutters and blushes and backing away from each other to return to the task at hand under the mistletoe in that unremarkable office block, while the world continued around as them as though nothing had happened. And they had continued too, the only difference being that the Doctor had kept his distance just a little more than usual, an infinitesimal amount that Sarah felt rather than saw. She missed his hand on her back, his arm around her shoulders and it had struck her that she hadn't realised how much he touched her until he stopped. And now that she had the memory of his hand holding her face, and his lips on hers to torture herself with, the lack of contact had become agonising.

Today though, she had been in danger again and his protective, possessive side had reared its head. The tribe they had stumbled upon in a deep forest on a primitive planet had been ferociously patriarchal and they had seen Sarah as a prize to be forcibly taken. The Doctor had pulled her roughly into his side and had had to virtually claim her as his mate in order to get her away from them. He had kept her close even after they had escaped the village and half carried her back to the TARDIS despite the fact that she was perfectly capable of walking. Her feminist principals rebelled against his chivalry, but a deeper, more basic part of her was deeply moved by the way he could become so caveman like, instinctively protecting her. It was a part of him that she didn't see often, but she had discovered she rather liked being claimed.

Once he had set them to float in the vortex they had retired to the library, something she had noticed the Doctor only really did after something particularly shook him. Sarah had long ago given up on her own book and laid down to rest, ignoring the Doctor's half hearted murmurings that she'd be better off in her bed. She ignored him, knowing that the fact he was still sitting next to her rather than off tinkering with the TARDIS was more indicative of his concern for her than of his own fatigue.

He was so close. The top of her head was no more than a whisker away from his thigh. His hand was resting on the back of the sofa and she willed him to move it, to touch her. She was tired, and aching, and fighting to stay awake but she knew that to move now would be to break this fragile spell, end this comfortable, peaceful moment of domesticity and companionship. If she just stayed still, the irrational part of her mind told her, they could stay in this reverie together forever. They would never have to discuss their kiss, he would not have to skirt around the issue and she would be able to continue imagining it might happen again.

She was just starting to drift off into sleep when she felt it, the tiniest whisper of a touch, the very tips of his fingers grazing over the sensitive part of her side between her shoulder and underarm. So light she wasn't even sure it was real; she wondered if he had been able to hear her thoughts, if she'd been mentally screaming at him to touch her.

She shifted slightly in order to ascertain if she was imagining things, trying to make the movement seem like a natural change of position. It was pointless really to try and feign sleep really. His superior senses would almost certainly be able to tell her exact level of wakefulness, especially if he did, as she suspected, have his hand on her. For a moment she fancied she could feel his amusement at her pretence through his fingertips, his nerve endings somehow transmitting his moods through to hers.

She risked opening her eyes a sliver to take him in. From where she was lying she could see the heavy textbook in his lap, his large, gentle hand holding it open. She wondered vaguely if he was planning another experiment; if he deemed that his last had been a success or not. His fascination with her species seemed to know no bounds and he never seemed to tire of learning more about them. He shifted slightly and then she was certain she felt the definite pressure of his hand, tracing a figure of eight on her side. She closed her eyes again and concentrated on the sensation of his fingers slowly stroking up and down her side, from shoulder to hip. His hand paused when he reached the ridge where he could feel her bra through the tight jumper she wore. Sarah felt her muscles tense at the unfamiliar contact. It was no different to him touching her back or shoulder when escorting her through a door or helping her over rocky ground, she reasoned to herself; but the feel of him touching her underwear, acknowledging that it was even there, was a change that seemed so intimate, the quantum leap between a friend's touch and something an established lover would do. The Doctor slowly started to trace the outline of her undergarment with forefinger and thumb, running them along the top and bottom of the strap where it sat under her arm, pinching them together to lift the fabric slightly before letting it flick back into place. Sarah was suddenly finding it rather hard to breathe. The Doctor's fingers tightened as he sensed her change in mood, and he flattened his palm against her side, sliding it down to sit in the curve of her waist.

"The human female," he murmured softly, finally breaking the silence, "has wider hips than the male in order to facilitate childbirth"

Sarah's minded skittered over his meaning; perhaps he had been reading his textbook rather too often.

His hand travelled downwards, soft and hesitant, finding the hem of her jumper and gently pushing it up to allow his fingers to touch her bare skin. His touch was cool but it set Sarah's nerve endings on fire. His hand curved around her hip, the smallest finger just barely finding its way under the waistband of her jeans.

"Often," he continued, "the curve of the hip is attractive to human males, who at a basic level see it as a sign of fertility"

His hand moved upwards again, sliding into the dip of her waist and up towards the back of her bra again, tracing it in the same way as before, without the barrier of her jumper.

"It's not just human males who find it attractive, Sarah"

Sarah's eyes flew open and she turned her head to look up at him. He was still staring resolutely at his book, but his furrowed brow indicated he was having to concentrate just a bit too hard. It occurred to her that he hadn't turned the page since sitting down. She bit the bullet and rolled over, moving up so her head was on his thigh. He kept his hand on her as she moved so it came to rest on her front, against her ribs, his thumb just brushing the underside of her breast. He finally turned away from his book and met her gaze, his eyes dark. His hand stroked her side again and a tiny smile graced his lips.

"What?" she whispered

"I think it's time I took you to bed, Sarah"

**Any thoughts? Reviews really do make my day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so… since people were lovely enough to request that I continue this….. I give you chapter 2 of A Further Study. There will be a chapter 3 as well.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed or favourited this so far, I am beyond flattered that anyone thinks enough of my writing to comment on it. And thank you to those who've taken the time to give me prompts, I am mulling them all over!**

**Everything is still owned by Auntie Beeb.**

Sarah stared up at the Doctor, her eyes wide. Had she heard him correctly? Slowly she sat up, her hand on his thigh to balance herself. He was still reclined against the back of the sofa and he regarded her thoughtfully as he took in her reaction to his words. Never taking his eyes off her face, he lifted his book over the armrest and placed it on a little table next to the sofa. He brought his other hand up to rest gently on her cheek and she registered that he was most definitely not shaking this time. A tight knot of anxiety started to form in her belly and she nervously darted out her tongue to lick her lips. His eyes flicked downwards and then in one swift movement he leant forward and claimed her lips. His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head. Sarah gingerly lifted her free hand to place it on his arm, her fingers just touching the underside of his elbow. His arm came up to wrap around her shoulders and she felt his hand leave her hair and slide down over her back, her hip, and down her thigh before hooking under her knees. He broke off the kiss and stood up, lifting her with him. She wound an arm around his neck and he grinned down at her before heading off through the TARDIS.

He came to a stop outside a door that Sarah guessed was his bedroom and set her down. She was sorry for the loss of contact but a part of her was glad he was letting her take this step by herself, both literally and figuratively. Gently he pushed the door open and she stepped over the threshold into his own personal space.

The room was surprisingly simple. The walls were unadorned and there was very little furniture. It made sense, she mused, since he probably didn't spend much time in here and in any case his eclectic tastes had taken over the rest of the TARDIS to such an extent that there was little need of any distractions in a room he would only use on rare occasions for sleep. She eyed the large bed which was the dominant feature of the room, and wondered just how often he did come in here. It was built of heavy reddish wood and covered in white bed linen. It looked very comfortable and inviting and she flushed at the thoughts that had come unbidden into her mind.

Determined to distract herself for a moment she focused on the only other piece of furniture in the room. Situated against the wall opposite the door was a long, low cabinet made of the same reddish wood, full of little doors and drawers. It reminded Sarah forcibly of an apothecary table she'd seen once in a museum although the colour and grain of the wood looked like no Earth tree she'd ever seen. Her journalist instincts made her long to look inside each and every one of the little compartments at once.

"Go ahead" murmured the Doctor from his vantage point in the doorway, and for the second time that evening Sarah wondered if he could hear her thoughts. Hesitantly she moved towards the cabinet and slid open one of the little drawers. Inside was a sketch on a scrap of paper, worked with something that resembled bluish charcoal. It was a simple rendering of a small animal not unlike a badger, surrounded by foliage. Sarah studied it for a moment before replacing it and opening another of the compartments. This one contained a slightly larger drawing of a man's face, done in inks. A third drawer revealed a dramatic mountainous scene etched in white chalk on black paper. On she went and every door revealed more of the Doctor's memories sketched on a variety of types of paper from parchment to foolscap to bits of torn cardboard, notepaper from a letter writing set, sheets haphazardly torn from lined notebooks; all covered with drawings in all manner of mediums. Some were barely more than a few strokes, the merest dreamlike suggestion of a scene; others had had more care taken over them. Some were of beautiful landscapes or exotic creatures, some of historical figures that Sarah recognised. Many of them were people she knew or guessed were previous companions of the Doctor.

She reached a tiny drawer in the top right hand corner of the cabinet and heard the unmistakeable catch of the Doctor's breath. He was right behind her and must have closed the gap between them while she'd been distracted looking at his artwork. Whatever was in this drawer, he was obviously anxious about her seeing it. But he had told her to go ahead, and he hadn't stopped her now, so she cautiously pulled it open and lifted out the paper inside. It was good quality, thick paper bought for the purpose, and when she held it up she caught her breath in surprise.

It was a picture of her. Unlike every other picture she had come across, it was painted in colour. A beautiful watercolour of her smiling face, slightly side on, as though she were looking back over her shoulder.

The Doctor's hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"That's how I see you, Sarah", he said quietly. "I never realised how grey the universe was until you came along. You were the first person I ever wanted to paint like that." Abruptly he let go of her to go and sit on the foot of the bed.

Sarah put the painting carefully back in its place and turned to face the Doctor who was watching her with something akin to fear on his face. His vulnerability tugged at her and it occurred to her that he was worried about what she might think of his hobby.

"They're wonderful, Doctor" she breathed, taking a step towards him. She reached out to touch his face, gently stroking his cheek before moving to push her fingers through his hair, but as her fingertips met his temple her chest tightened inexplicably when she felt a flicker of emotion, a quick sharp touch in the back of her mind like the lick of a whiplash, gone before it truly arrived.

Sarah's first instinct was to snatch her hand away like she'd been burned, but the Doctor, quicker than she, reached up and caught hold of her wrist, keeping her hand in place. His eyes belayed his surprise not only that she had been able to step into his mind, but that she had done it without effort.

"I'm sorry, Sarah" he murmured. "You caught me unawares just then. My barriers were relaxed."

Still holding her hand against his temple, he leaned his head into her touch and closed his eyes. This time the touch on her mind was a steady, gentle pressure, like a thumb pressing into clay, the impression slowly deepening until it met the surface underneath. Sarah gasped in shock as he gently sent waves of emotion to her; everything he was feeling at that moment pouring steadily into her own subconscious. Happiness, anxiety, fear, love, trust and the hot, burning touch of desire. Sarah's breath hitched and her fingers tightened involuntarily on his face. His eyes shot open as he felt her reaction to his unspoken confession and he searched her expression.

"I thought" Sarah managed to say, the quaver in her voice betraying her nerves "you said you were taking me to bed."

The Doctor gave her a devilish grin and gave the wrist he was still holding a tug. Sarah stumbled forwards into his arms and he wrapped both of them around her waist, turning her as she fell so she landed on her back on the bed with him hovering above her, propped up on an elbow.

"Oh, you rogue" she huffed out with what was left her breath after his little stunt.

He chuckled and then gently touched his fingers to her temple.

"May I?" he asked

Sarah gave a slight nod. "I thought you already could" she asked, "I could have sworn you heard my thoughts earlier"

The Doctor smiled down at her.

"Sometimes you think very loudly, Sarah" he explained, "but usually I can't sense much more than your general mood"

"Well, then. Go ahead" she echoed his earlier words.

The Doctor gave her a warm smile and pressed his fingers into place, closing his eyes. Sarah allowed herself to open up, bathing him in her emotions in the same way he had done for her. Eventually he opened his eyes and took his hand away.

"You want this." It wasn't a question.

"Yes" she whispered.

"Good"

**I know, I know… what a place to leave it, but this felt complete as a chapter and I need to get my thinking cap on for the rest of it. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, here's an end to this little story. This is short, but hopefully won't disappoint. I just didn't see a way of expanding this without making it more graphic, and I didn't want to turn this story M rated. Anyway… reviews, as always, are very much appreciated!**

**Everything still owned by the Beeb.**

A Further Study – chapter 3

There was nothing hesitant about the Doctor's actions this time. He hovered over her, his fingers in her hair, and slowly, thoroughly, painstakingly devoured Sarah's mouth until she was whimpering for air and shakingwith the intensity of it all. He eventually pulled back and she smiled hazily up at him, her fingertips just barely grazing his arms, gently stroking up and down, feeling the bunching of his muscles as he held his weight off her.

He sucked in his bottom lip, observing her for a moment, before easing back onto one elbow and lying beside her, his head propped on his hand. She turned her head to meet his gaze and arched an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked for the second time that evening.

"I was just thinking how a look of slight dishevelment rather suits you" he grinned, taking in her mussed hair and flushed cheeks.

She cast a glance at his own appearance.

"Likewise."

His lip twitched and he lifted his free hand to stroke her cheek.

She covered his hand with her own and turned her head to kiss his palm, lacing their fingers together before turning back to meet the Doctor's gaze through half closed eyes.

His smile was full of affection.

"Come here," he said quietly, sliding his other arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap, sitting up so they were face to face. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

"Now is the time, Sarah", he murmured against her skin; "if you've any doubts…" he trailed off

Sarah gave her head a tiny shake

"No doubts" she whispered

She felt his smile form and his lips press into the side of her neck. He started to pepper tiny kisses behind her ear, moving downwards until he met the neckline of her jumper. His hands moved from her hips to gently grasp the hem and in one swift move he had tugged it over her head and discarded it by the side of the bed. He lay back against the pillows and drank her in.

Sarah felt herself flush and he reached for her, his hands covering her hips and then travelling up to pause at her shoulders, pulling her down for another kiss before carrying on down her arms until they met her own hands, guiding them to the front of his shirt. Sarah tilted her head, moving her lips against his, and started to clumsily undo his buttons, her trembling fingers hampering her progress. Eventually she was able to push his shirt off his shoulders, and couldn't resist breaking their kiss to let her weight drop to lie on his chest, skin to skin. She felt him kiss the top of her head, his fingertips gently running up and down her back, pausing only to unhook her bra. She sat up again as he slid the undergarment from her shoulders and she knew she was turning scarlet.

"Beautiful" he murmured, gazing up at her.

She gave a cheeky smile.

"One does aim to please".

He gave her a wolfish look and flipped her onto her back, claiming her lips again, his hands beginning to roam in earnest. Sarah closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch, committing it all to memory.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSS

Later, they lay together, spooned comfortably, their joined hands resting on Sarah's stomach.

"That was worth the wait." she murmured, her eyes beginning to flutter closed.

"The wait?" queried the Doctor, his voice a gruff rumble against her back.

"Well, it's been over three weeks since we kissed. This has been… well, let's just say it's been on my mind."

She could feel his grin start to spread across his face without having to turn and see it. He leaned forward so his lips were a hair's breadth from her ear.

"Anticipation;" he whispered "fascinating".

**Well, I **_**do **_**hope it was worth the wait. Let me know!**


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